Lord of the Forest
by MischievousCuriosity
Summary: The grief after Harry's friends' deaths threatens to overcome him. With nothing and no one left, he slips into a new world, where he can start over. There he discovers he plays quite an important part... Harry/Legolas; powerful!Harry; Harry centric and a little bit of AU. Written for CasheyHooray1.00's challenge.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter One: Prologue

**Title:** Lord of the Forest

**Rating: **T

**Pairings: **Harry/Legolas

**Warnings: **Slash, mild gore, language, some angst, a touch of depression, and OOCness. A bit hard to avoid with an immortal Harry, though.

**Summary: **The grief after Harry's friends' deaths threatens to overcome him. With nothing and no one left, he slips into a new world, where he can start over. There he discovers he plays quite an important part... Harry/Legolas; powerful!Harry; Harry centric. Written for CasheyHooray1.00's challenge.

**AN:** Finally. Sorry it took so long, CasheyHooray! So, dear readers, this is for CasheyHooray's "Lord of the Forest" challenge. It's a short prologue, I might add more later, but this is all I have time for now.

**DISCLAIMER:**I own neither the original works (HP and LotR belong to JK Rowling and JRR Tolkien respectively) nor the plot idea (thanks again, CasheyHooray!).

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Harry glared spitefully at the circle of runes covering the Chamber of Secrets, fighting off tears. Friends and family's faces flashed through his head, each one piling on to his mountain of grief and guilt.

Ron. Just after a major row between himself and the strong-willed red head, he jumped in front of the heavy slashing curse that would have sliced Harry to ribbons. His last gasping words (he had been lying on the bloody ground and clenching Harry's hand and the only things Harry had been able to say were _oh god oh god not you, anyone but you-_) were _I'm sorry._

Hermione. His poor, sweet bookworm nearly went mad with grief after Ron died, and during a raid, blew apart a group of some hundred-odd Death Eaters with the strongest blasting curse Harry ever witnessed. The letter she left him in her will pressed against his chest from its permanent spot in his shirt pocket.

Remus. Sirius. Tonks. The majority of the Order. All killed in raids, ambushes, and this final battle. No one Harry cared about was left, so he had searched every library, every page in every single _damned _book in the entire Wizarding World of Britain to find information about this ritual.

Hopefully, the combined strength of his magical power, the runes, and a few potions would be able to transport him to a new world. One where he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, or the 'Defeater of all Evil' or whatever idiotic names the public was coming up with now.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped into the circle. Automatically, the circle began to drain his magic in a process he still didn't quite understand (Harry acknowledged the stupidity of that with an internal wince, but he was grieving and desperate and _what else did you expect him to do?_) The runes glowed in response, and he scrambled to remember the chant to initiate the magic hovering within the ancient letters.

With a moment of sudden clarity, Harry downed the black vial in his hand and began speaking in the strange, lilting language the ritual required. He glanced briefly at the chest of belongings resting by his foot; it had started humming with energy. Not a second later, Harry too began feeling the effects of the ceremony.

Magic rushed through Harry's veins, warming his blood and bringing a sense of breath-taking power and strength. With a horrid, grating shriek and a terrible _crack, _both Harry Potter and his belongings were ripped from Earth.

The runes bright fluorescence dulled, but they shivered with joy. Their job was completed.

**88888888**

Meanwhile, in a completely different dimension, an echo of the first scream resounded through a deep, black forest.

Harry rolled over and groaned. He stilled for a minute to gasp for breath- his trip through the weird limbo-like dimension had felt like drowning- before shooting up into a sitting position. His hair was tangled with sticks and leaves and his face was gaunt and sunken from sleepless nights. He looked like Death.

But as he gazed around and into the living, _moving _undergrowth, a brokenly beautiful smile made its way onto his chapped lips, and magical energy seemed to flow once again into his bright green eyes, making them glitter as they never had in his other life.

Because, for the first time since the battle, he didn't feel haunted by ghosts of the past.

He felt _alive _and _unburdened. _

Had anyone seen him then, they would not have seen the shadow of Death about him, but rather the golden sheen of Triumph.

**888888**

**Too short. Needs to be longer. Oh well. **

**Thanks for reading!  
><strong>

**-MC**

_**6/24 Edit: Hey guys! If this is your first time reading this fic, you can just skip this and move onto the next chapter. For any re-readers or people searching for an update, don't worry! I'm almost finished with the next chapter now. Just know that I'm going back and revamping these chapters, because my writing style has really improved recently, and looking back on these I'm actually kind of embarrassed. I won't be making any major plot changes (mostly because I actually like the plot, and partially to avoid any confusion) so you actually don't have to reread. Just thought you should know!**_


	2. Chapter 2: Change Magic, Highest Branch

Chapter Two: Prince of Leaves, Highest of Branches

**Title:** Lord of the Forest

**Rating: **T

**Pairings: **Harry/Legolas

**Warnings: **Slash, mild gore, language, some angst, a touch of depression, and OOCness. A bit hard to avoid with an immortal Harry, though.

**Summary: **The grief after Harry's friends' deaths threatens to overcome him. With nothing and no one left, he slips into a new world, where he can start over. There he discovers he plays quite an important part... Harry/Legolas; powerful!Harry; Harry centric. Written for CasheyHooray1.00's challenge.

**AN:** Okay, because this is focusing mostly on Harry, little things from LotR are going to be introduced gradually. If you have something that you think should be added, a character Harry should meet, or someone from Harry's other life that should show up, just send me a PM. Don't put it in a review, cause then it won't be a secret! :) Oh, and I almost forgot! Since I've got things up and running again (honestly, sometimes the bugs in technology outweigh the benefits) do you want longer periods of time before another update and therefore a longer chapter, or shorter time and shorter updates? Just put it in those lovely reviews I keep receiving, even after not updating for months!

**DISCLAIMER: **I never have and never will own the wonderfully created worlds of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. They're just too complicated to be mine.

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Harry spread his fingers flat on the ground and smiled. He didn't even have to check― he knew this world was new; the magic here was different from Earth's. Harry reached out and plucked a leaf from the ground. He stared at it and wondered how a product of magic so different from his own could result in something so similar to Earth.

It made him think: just how different were the beings here from the ones on Earth? Were the people here (if there were any) magical, or even aware that a powerful, rolling magic existed beneath their feet and in the air? Had he dropped himself into a benevolent or violent world?

Harry sighed and decided that it would be best to stay in the forest for the time being. At least here he could recover and gain his bearings in peace. He pushed his aching body off of the ground and ambled over to a small pond.

Silver figures (whether fish or some rare creature, he didn't know) swirled and danced in the deeper end of the crystal pool, and softly whistling ferns arched over the water lazily. The unmarred purity of this world was clear to Harry; the sentient inhabitants (if any such beings existed) must not as advanced as his on Earth, he decided. That kind of industry left wicked wounds on the planet's aura.

Harry spent the rest of the day in that clearing. The quiet was peaceful, and the forest reminded him of some of the tamer parts of the Forbidden Forest. Sometime in late afternoon, Harry had just begun dozing off when he became aware of a presence watching him from just beyond the first trees. He tried to ignore it, sensing no ill intent, only curiosity.

But as the light began to fade, and the shadows lengthened, the force grew closer, and Harry's senses tingled in warning. Quickly snapping his wrist, a small blue flame grew to life and settled in his palm. Seeing the fire flicker brought back painful memories of Hermione, of inseparable friendships, of fun and light and laughter…

Blinking back his sudden tears and forcing away the feelings– _regret, despair, guilt guilt guilt_– Harry called out hoarsely, "Who's there?"

A long, slow voice spoke back, his words almost drawn out too much for Harry to understand them: "You must be Istari, Young One. But not the same, no… You are not student of a Valar… You are no apprentice, ah, so young to be so strong, so broken, so loved, so alone… An Istari without guidance is a dangerous force…" The voice continued to muse to itself, speaking of someone called Radagast and someone named Gandalf, but Harry wasn't really listening. Something else had caught his attention.

The speaker…

_Was a tree!_

As the strange being moved further into Harry's (who found himself stepping back) clearing, he realized that _it _was no tree, but just very tree-like. The creature was huge, at least fourteen feet tall, with strange, bark-like skin. He looked similar to the trolls Harry had seen occasionally back ho– _in the Wizarding World_ but much slimmer and more intelligent. His long, powerful arms moved and were fashioned in a way that closely reminded Harry of the strong branches of the Whomping Willow, but the creature's limbs were more humanoid. The tree trunk-like torso split dually to form legs, which split further into many roots in a mockery of toes. From the tough, gnarled face, deep-set eyes watched him closely.

"What _are _you?" Harry breathed.

The tree-like entity stopped and peered down him. It seemed to analyze him, and simply stood for many minutes, seemingly contemplating an answer. Finally, he spoke: "I am the oldest Ent, and my name is Treebeard. We are among the Eldest races, akin to the elves… They were our teachers in language, of our education of Man and His ways, of new things and the coming of our Warrior… but you, Young Lord, are not elf, nor dwarf, not Istari, but made from Magic, yes, the same as the ground and the air and the water and the sun and the dancing flame that now sits upon your palm…"

"I am a Wizard," Harry stated, curiosity aroused, "Is that what you're talking about?" He ignored the fact that he hadn't the foggiest what an _Ent_ was, and he forced the image of Dobby giving grammar lessons out of his mind.

The Ent, Treebeard, stared at him again for a while. "I suppose. But your magic has changed, my Lord, like my brethren in the Autumn, like the clouds and sun shift, like the small chick to the soaring eagle. Yes, your magic– your life force, the blood that runs through your veins– has changed along with your world. You are now Highest of Branches, Prince among Leaves, King of Kings and Lord of Life. All the creations of Illúvatar shall acknowledge your power, and the Children of Yavanna will bow before you… As the Eldest Ent, it is my responsibility I bestow upon you your power and grace and all that can aid you during your leadership. Welcome to Middle-Earth, Lord of the Forest." Treebeard gave a low, creaking bow, but Harry was too dazed to notice. He could only produce one thought:

_Oh Merlin, what have I gotten myself into?_

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**Yay! All finished. Now, just remember to give me your ideas and requests, and tell me about the update options mentioned on my above AN. Thanks!**

**-MC**

_**6/24 Edit: Okay, looking back, I really think I rushed this chapter too much. But there isn't much I can do about it without ripping out Harry's interaction with Treebeard and pushing it back some, which would upset the storyline I've already written and uploaded. Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. I'm going to continue editing these old chapters, and the next chapter should be up in a week or so.**_


	3. Chapter 3: An Explanation is in Order

Chapter Three: I Firmly Believe an Explanation is in Order!

**Title:** Lord of the Forest

**Rating: **T

**Pairings: **Harry/Legolas

**Warnings: **Slash, mild gore, language, some angst, a touch of depression, and OOCness. A bit hard to avoid with an immortal Harry, though.

**Summary: **The grief after Harry's friends' deaths threatens to overcome him. With nothing and no one left, he slips into a new world, where he can start over. There he discovers he plays quite an important part... Harry/Legolas; powerful!Harry; Harry centric. Written for CasheyHooray1.00's challenge.

**AN:** Hey guys! Whew, it's been a while, eh? Anywho, no excuses this time, just couldn't find the energy or inspiration to do _anything. _Beginning of summer does that to you though, I suppose. XD

**DISCLAIMER: **Honestly, I'm not sure why I keep writing these things. I'm obviously NOT Rowling or Tolkien.

**88888888**

_Last Chapter:_

_The Ent, Treebeard, stared at him again for a while. "I suppose. But your magic has changed, my Lord, like my brethren in the Autumn, like the clouds and sun shift, like the small chick to the soaring eagle. Yes, your magic– your life force, the blood that runs through your veins– has changed along with your world. You are now Highest of Branches, Prince among Leaves, King of Kings and Lord of Life. All the creations of Illúvatar shall acknowledge your power, and the Children of Yavanna will bow before you… As the Eldest Ent, it is my responsibility I bestow upon you your power and grace and all that can aid you during your leadership. Welcome to Middle-Earth, Lord of the Forest." Treebeard gave a low, creaking bow, but Harry was to dazed to notice. He could only produce one thought:_

_**Oh Merlin, what have I gotten myself into?**_

**88888888**

Harry shook himself fiercely, but still only managed to give Treebeard a slightly dazed look. "Okay… So… Lord of the Forest… right…" Harry shook his head again. "… What exactly does that mean?"

Treebeard thought for a moment. "You are King of Forests and Prince of the Meadows. You are the highest power among the Living, and therefore all the Living bow to you."

"Yes, okay, I got the whole 'King/Princey thing. But what does that entail? What do I have to do? Who are the 'Living'? Is that everyone living _right now? _Oh for Salazar's sake, I don't _want _to be a hero again! That's what this is about, isn't it? I'm going to have to be another martyr? C'mon then, tell me what I have to do. I might as well get this over with, huh…? Am I going to have to die this time as well? Cause that really sucked last time. And then I come back, and everybody's _dead!_ Well it won't happen this time. I _will _be prepared. Now, tell me what this is all about." Harry stared at the Ent; face calm in an attempt to mask the slightly frantic look in his eyes and the slight slurring of his speech. Harry _might _have been just a little bit upset about having his 'peaceful life' plans usurped. _(Had any of Harry's previous friends seen him then, they all would have gotten the hell out of dodge, because a 'calm' Harry in a potentially upsetting situation was just the calm before the storm; but Harry wasn't thinking about that, oh no, because that would have brought up memories of fights and make-ups and an ultimate bond of friendship which had just brought him pain pain pain)_

Treebeard looked a little stunned and the tiniest bit amused. He also seemed a bit overwhelmed by the speed at which Harry talked. Or, at least, as overwhelmed as a living plant can be. "Many questions go unasked, many answers remain unfound. Secrets stay buried only due to ignorance. It pleases me to see that that will not be happening during your rule, my Lord." A small flicker of humor danced through Treebeard's calm gaze. Harry lowered his head and grinned a bit sheepishly.

"The answer you seek is not a simple one, and not one commonly entertained in the minds of even the wisest Elves. Deep waters have been explored; mountains crossed, and yet both turn out surprises of the strangest sort. Your answer is the same. It's possible design shifts and twists as often as the breeze changes course. You are Magic, my Lord, Magic and the Valar have chosen you to guide life in this world. You are the highest of the Maia; yet separate from them. This cannot be changed. But the path of this magic, its intent and the way you direct it will; with age and wisdom and injuries and heartbreak. Now that you have traveled here, my Lord, the process is irreversible."

Treebeard paused and allowed Harry a bit of time to sort through the barrage of information.

_A Lord?! _Harry questioned himself frantically. _A Lord of Life Magic?! Just my luck…_ Harry pushed the more confusing thoughts into the background and focused on simpler topics.

Such as Elves, even though Harry made a mental promise to avoid them. They sounded a bit too prissy and powerful for his tastes. He'd like to avoid any conflict with creatures that could mortally wound him, thank you very much.

_They sound a bit like Draco… _Harry mused. _Or, at least, like him until his mother died. _The unforeseen death of Draco's mother had shaken the proud Malfoy heir. His ultimate decision to switch loyalties had resulted in many lives being saved. Harry remembered seeing some of the premature worry lines of Draco's handsome face smooth out with that knowledge. Those marks always nagged at Harry; they reminded him of a time when Draco would have bemoaned their existence. He had been glad to see them relieved, even if only for a short time. Their absence had made him hope for something better, something happier… Maybe a new life, where relationships weren't shrouded with bitterness or the urgency brought on by knowing your life wasn't guaranteed another day…

Shaking himself once again out of his thoughts, Harry asked his question. "Who are the Elves? What's so special about them?" He thought fondly back to his elves: small, desperately loyal creatures, they were.

"They are as old as the Ents and Entwives. They taught us to speak and they befriended our forests. They were favored by the Vala Oromë and fought many great battles against the Dark Lords of Middle-Earth. They are fair and wise, graceful and very powerful as a race… the Elves cannot age and are not affected by sickness. They can be killed on the battlefield… And some Elves die of grief or sadness… You must understand this, my Lord, when dealing with Elves: they are an extremely empathetic people and have strong family bonds. They love all beautiful things and inherently despise evil." Harry listened to Treebeard speak and was entranced. He was seriously tempted to go out and meet them, if not for the lingering thought of their power and Treebeard's warning about their strong attachments. _Yes, _Harry thought, _Perhaps it's best just to avoid meeting anyone at all. That way is safer. _

He ignored the little voice in his head that questioned _safer for your body or your heart?_

"Will they come far into the forest?"

Treebeard gave a thundering chuckle that shook the ground. "You may see them on the outskirts, but not many beings venture here. The Ents have given the forest a reputation, my Lord. And rightfully so… the Ents defend their own as well as wolves and the elements…"

Treebeard continued to speak of the Ents and Entwives ("Oh, how happy they will be to learn of you, dear King!") and the other races of Middle-Earth ("There are Dwarves who work with stone and Man who dominates the land…") while Harry listened intently. He was, quite frankly, very surprised that he was not overreacting to all of this. But, when he looked deep into himself, he noticed that his magic (which had been angrily raging through him after his inheritance) was suddenly soothed.

Harry smiled happily and glanced up through the emerald leaves to a cloudless sky. His hair fluttered with the breeze that danced through the branches of Ents and trees alike. The air was crisp and clean and cool.

Harry grinned.

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**So, basically a filler chapter. I'll probably skip a few years with the next one, what do you guys think? What do you want to happen next?**

**Love ya! ;) **

**-MC**

_**6/24 Edit- I did a lot of filling out on this chapter, so even if you've read it already, you might want to go back and take a look. Because its getting pretty late, I'll edit the last chapter tomorrow and then post the fifth chapter either by Friday or sometime this weekend, hopefully.**_


	4. Chapter 4: Istari, The Good and the Bad

Chapter Four: Istari: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

**Title:** Lord of the Forest

**Rating: **T

**Pairings: **Harry/Legolas

**Warnings: **Slash, mild gore, language, some angst, a touch of depression, OOCness. A bit hard to avoid with an immortal Harry, though.

**Summary: **The grief after Harry's friends' deaths threatens to overcome him. With nothing and no one left, he slips into a new world, where he can start over. There he discovers he plays quite an important part... Harry/Legolas; powerful!Harry; Harry centric. Written for CasheyHooray1.00's challenge.

**AN:** Hehe… Yeah, again, I don't have an excuse except laziness. I feel awful for leaving you all hanging… so, an extra long chappie this time! And another already in the making, hopefully.

**DISCLAIMER:** LotR and HP belong to their brilliant owners: JRR Tolkien and JK Rowling.

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**SECOND AGE, YEAR 504:**

Harry slipped silently through the shadowed undergrowth lining the edges of his forest. His watchful eyes darted back and forth and he kept his bow within reach; he was well aware of the danger here. The Ents that guarded the outskirts of the forest had warned him many years ago of a darkness, a powerful evil growing in Middle-Earth. They told him that the wind whispered of danger, and the trees were shifting uneasily. He had taken their counsel to heart, and never left the forest's center without his bow.

Then, a few months back, the evil _things _had started to slash and burn their way into the forest.

The Ents had been absolutely horrified. Many, despite their uneasiness with quick decisions (which, in their eyes, meant being too hasty), immediately prepared an expedition to go begin killing off the perpetrators. But Harry had begged them to wait, and watch.

They had fought him on it, but eventually agreed to put off any attack until more information was gathered. Tenseness remained in their limbs and actions, especially as more and more reports of destroyed trees came in.

But everything had come to a climax with the death of an Ent and three Entwives. The entire forest had darkened, and a pervading gloom had invaded even the sunniest of hollows. The Ents had groaned their sorrow, and their Lord had journeyed to the murderers' camp to avenge his fallen.

Harry's inheritance-strengthened nose wrinkled in answer to the foul smell drifting from the camps. Mangled, disfigured creatures worked together to demolish the tree line before the Lord's horrified eyes. Not only was the smell rancid, but the awful, hatred-tainted magic that coated the land like oil was contaminating everything.

But above all of this, there was a fell name spoken with hushed breaths. The fear and malice with which it was said sent waves of horror down the powerful wizard's spine.

_Sauron._

**888888**

_It had taken about thirty years for Harry to have his fill of exploring. Another fifty or so Harry had spent relaxing and coming to terms with his new role. Twenty years later, Treebeard had finished teaching him Middle-Earth's history, customs, races, and languages. Now, here he was, two hundred and ninety-six years after he had traveled to his new home, and preparing for a new war with a new Dark Lord. "Calm yourself, my Lord. Widen your lungs, deepen your breaths. Delve deep into the source of your thoughts." Treebeard's low, gravelly voice lulled Harry further into his state of meditation._

"_Have you found the beginning yet, my Lord?" Harry nodded slowly. "Good. Now immerse yourself in it. Remember feelings forgotten, lessons unlearned, and faded friends."_

_Harry happily dove into the source of his magic- a pool of rich brown, shot through with black- and was struck with a kaleidoscope of memories. It seemed that his magic took an imprint of everything he had ever done- everyone he had ever met- and squirreled it away to his core. He saw early memories, of light and laughter and red hair and bright colors. Harry bitterly turned from them. It hurt to be reminded that he had only ever been unburdened for a year and a half of his life.  
><em>

_From there the flow swept over his time at the Dursleys. It seemed even his magic didn't care for them; all those impressions were faint and foggy, like a half-developed photograph. _

_His Hogwarts years were preserved with breathtaking accuracy. Harry watched, tears welling, as his past self formed the famous Golden Trio and dragged them off on wild adventures. Reality faded away, and the only thing remaining was the memories and a soul-deep yearning. Harry reached out, hand trembling, to stroke his godfather's Azkaban-ravaged face. _

"_Oh, Padfoot…"_

_When the Voldemort arose, and Cedric died, Harry began to weep._

_When Sirius's body fell heavily through the Veil, he wailed._

_When Dumbledore went flying off the Astronomy Tower, he fell to his knees._

_When he watched the war begin in earnest, and his family fall one by one, Harry Potter finally allowed himself to grieve._

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**SECOND AGE, YEAR 1862**

Harry shot up in bed; violently jerked from his dreams by his outer ward alarm. He paused momentarily to rub his face in an effort to rid himself of the lingering memory of a training session. He shook his head, white hair flying. Figures he'd have traumatic memories of remembering. Even if it had been so long ago…

He leapt out of his treetop bed, yanked on a pair of well-worn boots, and snatched his bow from its resting place near the door.

Then he was on the ground and running, feet barely caressing the leaves before they were off again, and the Lord of the Forest allowed himself another moment to reflect upon his dream.

That training session had been just one of many, but it _had _been one of the hardest. Not for physical strain, no; the total emotional upheaval had left him senseless for two days after. Treebeard had said that he needed to reestablish control over his memories and past life to seal the already strong bond he had with his magic. Until then, the small stream of magic that the Valar Oromë and Yavanna were sending him would be unavailable to him.

Harry reached the ward border, only to gaze in wide wonder at the person on the other side. Nothing could truly see the forest anymore, Harry had had to completely shield the inner trees from the Orcs and Sauron. He hadn't done it fast enough to save much, and the Entwives had made him take them to safer growing grounds. But, strangely enough, this man (who reminded him quite a lot of Dumbledore) seemed to be able to sense it.

The stranger stroked the barrier with a cautious finger. He was still shocked, if the way he jerked back was any indication.

Harry tugged on a lock of white hair (inheritance byproduct; it never did straighten out though…) and smirked. Well, he might as well help the guy out. Petunia did always say that helping the elderly was a sure-fire way to get on the Universe's good side.

The young wizard turned sharply on his heel and apparated silently right behind his intruder.

"Whatcha doing?"

Harry decided that the amount of amusement he got from watching an old man jump and shriek was not right.

The grey-clothed man regained his composure and replied, "I'm observing this rather curious barrier. It seems the work of an Illusionist, as it can conceal the forest behind, but even I had trouble sensing it was not real."

"Aye, 'tis an illusion, but not one you would be familiar with. Who are you, and why do you sense my forest?" Harry questioned, smirk shifting into a grin and eyebrow rising.

The other man bowed lightly. "Gandalf the Istari, my friend. And you might be…?"

Harry returned the bow. The trees had whispered good things of this wizard; it couldn't hurt to get to know him a bit better. Besides, he was starting to get lonely, and he hadn't been far out of the forest since a run-in with a few orcs two years back; his shoulder was still healing. "I am the Lord of this forest, good sir. Would you like to come in?"

Gandalf smiled warmly.

"That would be wonderful."

**888888**

A few hours later, Harry decided that he liked the Grey Wizard. Sure, he was a bit strange, but after living as long as they had, how could you not be?

**888888**

**Good! There's Gandalf and Sauron's first war. We'll get to Legolas next!**

**-MC**

**PS: I got a complaint about the way Treebeard talks, of all things… Also one about how powerful Harry is. People, come on! It says it in the summary–!**

_**6/25 Edit- I changed almost nothing on this chapter, because it introduces the plot some and I don't want to alter that any. So this is the end of my editing for now, look out for the new chapter soon!**_


	5. Chapter 5: Elven Meetings

Chapter Five: Elven Meetings

**Title:** Lord of the Forest

**Rating: **T

**Pairings: **Harry/Legolas

**Warnings: **Slash, mild gore, AU, language, some angst, a touch of depression, OOCness. That's a bit hard to avoid with an immortal Harry, though.

**Summary: **The grief after Harry's friends' deaths threatens to overcome him. With nothing and no one left, he slips into a new world, where he can start over. There he discovers he plays quite an important part... Harry/Legolas; powerful!Harry; Harry centric. Written for CasheyHooray1.00's challenge.

**AN:** So sorry for the wait you guys. Time just sort of got away from me! Anyways, I shall pay you for your loyalty with a chapter with Legolas's introduction! **And I would like to warn you! This chapter begins introducing some AU. I'm okay if you don't like that, and feel free to tell me, but **_**please**_**, do not claim that I didn't inform you. I'm even changing my summary to advertise it.**

**DISCLAIMER: **Just recently I was going back and rereading the LotR and HP series. The writing styles of JK and Tolkien never fail to humble me.

_**NOTE: **__I've gone back and edited the previous chapters. There were no major changes, so it isn't required that you reread to understand what's going on, but I did add a lot of things to Chapter Three: __An Explanation is in Order__. If anything, you might want to read that one, because some of that stuff may or may not be alluded to later._

**88888888**

**SECOND AGE, YEAR 3441**

All of Harry's training against the threat that was Sauron was proved meaningless. Not only could Harry tell that, should he ever have attempted to fight the Dark Lord, the sheer power the evil being possessed would've crushed him, but the other Lord was defeated by a mere _man _while the wizard looked on with incredulity. The entire battle had passed with Harry remaining a simple spectator.

It was clear, though, that with Sauron's death, a shadow had been lifted from the land. All of the creatures in Harry's forest grew livelier with the Dark Lord's defeat, as did the Ents and Harry himself, too. He no longer had to deal with the shrinking borders or the grimy aura of the Dark Lord and his creations licking at his magic.

He could finally breathe easy.

Harry sighed and rested his cheek on his palm. Now that Fangorn was safe again, he had little to entertain himself with. He loved his forest subjects dearly, but he missed learning and exploring and adventure!

_Perhaps that's the problem_, Harry pondered, _maybe I need something new._

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**THIRD AGE, YEAR 4**

"I'm not saying you are old, dear Gandalf, just that you are older than me!" Harry laughed.

Gandalf chuckled along with him. "Maybe that is so, but one wouldn't know it by looking at your hair."

"Why Gandalf!" Harry put a hand to his chest and cried dramatically, "You wound me!"

"Your defenses against insult are so soft," said Gandalf, poking the younger wizard in the back of the head, "And you are so quick to call foul. Perhaps you _are _young." The two magic users ambled along a forest path on their way to Lothlórien. The old friends had reunited two years back when Gandalf had come calling. It had taken less than a day for the old man to convince Harry to travel the world with him. Since then, they had grown immeasurably closer and Harry had begun to see Gandalf as a sort of grandfather figure mixed with a close friend.

"Come now, you know that's not true."

And Gandalf did know. The full, unedited version of Harry's life story had been shared on a cold, cloudless night. Seeing the stars, but not his favorite constellations (they were all up there, in their own way, Sirius and Draco and Hermione and the others. They used to joke that the only one without a constellation was Harry, because Harry was space and gravity, just holding them all up) had brought up the topic, and after it was all gone and said Harry cried himself to sleep on Gandalf's shoulder.

The next day, Gandalf had shared tales of the Valar and the creation of the world as they rode. They laughed and cried together, and when it finally came time for them to drop the horses, they walked arm in arm and shared gossip like children.

They had become inseparable, so much so that Gandalf was leading him to one of the hidden treasures of Arda: the elven city of Lothlórien.

Harry was still a bit on edge about the elves, but Gandalf had assured him that they were lovely creatures who wouldn't hurt a fly (that didn't do much to reassure him, as he had seen the elves fighting Sauron and _what does not hurting a fly look like to you?!_)

"Aha!" Gandalf exclaimed, making Harry jump. "We are almost there; we should meet someone who will greet us soon."

Harry settled down and hummed in response. The stillness of the forest and the eyes he could feel on his back were making him jittery.

"Don't be nervous Harry. The elves are most kind," Gandalf winked. Harry couldn't contain his chuckles.

They walked in silence the rest of the way. Their destination ended up being a small clearing; rather reminiscent of the one Harry appeared in all those years ago. Standing in the middle of the open space were three elves, two males and a female. Upon their approach, the elf-maiden spread her arms in welcome.

"_Nae saian luume', Mithrandir_." Her voice was soft and kind, and very beautiful. Harry instantly felt calmer in her presence. _**(1)**_

"_Oio naa elealla alasse', arwenamin_," Gandalf's voice rumbled from behind Harry. The elvish tongue, as always, rang out like song. Gandalf placed a hand on his shoulder. "This is a dear friend of mine, Harry of Fangorn." **_(2)_**

The two males looked at him in disbelief at hearing his introduction, but the White Lady (for she could be no other; the Ents sang many songs in her praise) just smiled. "_Mae govannen, heru Harry en Fangorn._" **_(3)_**

Her smile was contagious; Harry felt a matching one stretch his face. "_Mae govannen, arwen en amin Galadriel. Saesa omentien lle._" **_(4)_**

The Lady of the Wood laughed lightly. "_I'seasamin._" **_(5)_**

**88888888**

The rest of their visit with the Lothlórien elves went marvelously. Lady Galadriel took an interest in him, so much of his time in the beautiful city was spent in her presence. She taught him much about the history of the elves since their interactions with the Ents, as well as some information about the other races of Arda that Treebeard had not know.

Harry also got well-acquainted with two elves named Rumil and Orophin, and their brother the marchwarden of the northern borders, Haldir. The former took great amusement in Harry's many attempts to crack Haldir's unshakable emotionless mask (this was partially because Harry's 'attempts' were either him glomping the elf when he least expected it or flirting so ridiculously blatant that there were running bets on when Haldir would blush). The three of them became known throughout Lothlórien as some of the greatest troublemakers the elves had ever seen.

When Gandalf finally decided it was high time he left (it _had _been over a year), he was unsurprised to learn that Harry was staying. The announcement of his farewell nearly caused Harry to regret his decision to leave Fangorn in the first place (_you knew this was going to happen, you knew you'd get hurt, you __**knew**_) until Galadriel showed him one of the most amazing things: _a mirror that could show the future._

She had meant to show him a future meeting with Gandalf to comfort him, he knew, but neither had predicted that the mirror would show him more.

Not images, precisely; rather emotions and vague imprints of events yet to pass. There had been warmth and love, but also despair and heartbreak, and Death had tinged all his senses a dark gray, so that he could sense the entity even on the images meant to be happy. Many, many feelings had swept through him, so many that he couldn't recall them afterward. Through it all, only two things had been clear to him: a plain of shattered blue that reminded him of glaciers and broken mirrors reflecting the sky, and a bloody red streak that flowed like magma. When he had awoken from his trance, a pale and shaking Galadriel had forbidden him from looking into the mirror any more. She had apparently tried to wake him up many times without success.

So when Harry finally waved goodbye to his dearest friend, he was comforted by the knowledge that they would meet again, but worried over things to come.

**88888888**

**THIRD AGE, YEAR 1012**

Harry crept through the Mirkwood undergrowth under disillusionment and silencing charms. He was extremely glad he had continued training in the magic of his home world along with the magic of here; otherwise he would have been caught by the elves of Mirkwood by now.

He didn't think they would believe him if he told them he had left Lothlórien for a journey north along the outskirts of Mirkwood just so he could turn around and go south again to reach the kingdoms of Rohan and Gondor. He had to admit that, had he known the size of the spiders here, he probably would have just gone straight to Rohan and left the exploring to some other idiot.

Harry paused and frowned. He could have sworn he heard something, something just out of his reach…

_There!_

Harry cocked his head and moved closer to listen. The elves were singing. _What on earth about? _Harry wondered. _They haven't sung along the borders in at least a year. I haven't heard them this happy since the marriage of Thranduil and the conception of…oh. _The immortal's eyes widened. _Oh._

Harry smiled with delight. Though dark times were ahead, not all hope was yet lost. New life was still springing from the ground (_or, in this case, Thranduil's bed, _thought Harry, and his smile grew to a grin) and there were still many good things to be found.

As Harry turned his back on Mirkwood and began his journey south, to Rohan, he ignored the urge to spin right back around and visit the little elfling. Surely the Elvenking would not be happy with an intrusion, and Harry had never been very good with children anyways.

Unbeknownst to him, his decision to disregard that tiny push to return to the celebrating lands of Mirkwood saved Middle-Earth, but condemned his heart to thousands of years of suffering.

**88888888**

**THIRD AGE, YEAR 1050**

A large group of elves traveled along the road to Rivendell, chattering and laughing. Amongst the pack only one stood out- a child who looked barely thirteen giggled at the actions of some elves in front of him. It was only when his hair shifted to show pointed ears that both his appearance on the road as well as the large number of elves were explained.

"Come along, prince Legolas!" An elf cried, "Let us be rid of these foul beasts." The elf snatched the elfling out from under the arm of the one he had been walking with.

The elfling giggled again at his previous watcher's exclamation of outrage.

This and many other antics continued as the entourage kept at their journey until night fell. Then, the elves set up camp in a clearing by the path, leaving only two awake for the watch. They did not expect to be ambushed here, on the open road, as their seclusion in the center of their dark forest prevented many messengers. Thus, they were unaware that darkness was rising in the land once more.

The sleeping elves were startled by a loud crash and the sounds of arrows leaving crudely-made bowstrings. One of their sentinels had been shot and had fallen from his tree; the other soon followed. At once the elves shot to their feet, some rushing for weapons and a large group of them swarmed around the frightened elfling.

One adult grabbed the child and whispered, "_Nurta, Legolas, asca!_" He darted away. **_(6)_**

The elves fought long and hard, but they were outnumbered and the moonless night ailed them. Many dropped beneath the enemy arrows, but some ran into the trees, hoping to find the beings assaulting them. Those elves were quickly cut down by sword.

At last, the camp grew still. It was only then that the assailers could be seen in the firelight. They were bulky, misshapen creatures; wicked and dark, they did not hesitate to rifle through the dead or steal their possessions. The things remained unaware of the young prince cowering in a hollow tree just along the tree line. He stayed silent, but large, soulful blue eyes looked on the scene in horror.

The little elfling may have managed to escape. He might have, had he not seen one of the things begin to _eat his friends._ The prince's whimper caught the attention of every one of the beasts, and, as one, they turned to his hiding place.

The whimper was louder then.

**88888888**

_Why is it_, Harry wondered, _that whenever I actually TRY to stay out of trouble, it is drawn to me even more?_

Harry had, quite honestly, actually been minding his own business (for once). The path to the Shire from Rohan was long, and so he had thought to make the most of it and stop by Rivendell on the way. He had already gone through both Fangorn (making extra sure to tell Treebeard all about his travels) and Lórien (where the Lady had spent the entire time acting as if she knew something very important that he didn't) and had just reached the road to High Pass when he caught an overwhelming stench of blood.

Had Harry been anyone sensible, he would have turned right back around and found some other way to the Shire. But all those years by himself hadn't quelled his saving people syndrome, and he decided with a sigh that he might as well go look for survivors.

What he had not been expecting was thirty odd dead elves and an Orc pack of nearly sixty that seemed to have found something of value among the dead.

_Great, _Harry groaned. _So much for keeping these clothes clean._

And with that, Harry threw a blasting curse and leapt into battle, not even thinking of looking for what the Orcs had so coveted.

**88888888**

_I'm going to die! _Legolas sobbed. _I'm going to die and I'll never see Ada or Nana again!_

The gross creatures were close to him now, and they were all snarling and jeering in some weird language and one came up and _touched him!_

The clawed hand gripped his face and turned his head this way and that. Then the thing turned to the others and said something to make them all cackle that he didn't understand, but the look on its face made Legolas sick to his stomach.

_It _reached for him again, and he tried to scramble back but instead he felt rough bark on his hands. His pathetic escape attempt set them off again, and Legolas felt fat tears run down his cheeks.

He choked when the thing renewed its efforts to catch him. The hands were just within snatching reach when an awful crunching noise made his tormentors spin around. Within moments of that final action, many of them joined their crushed companions on the ground. The rest were reaching for their weapons when a lightning-like smell invaded the hollow, and they all dropped dead.

Legolas sat there, dumbfounded. Just seconds ago he had been _sure _he was going to die or be captured by the things, and then they were gone. Just like that.

Thinking about the things impromptu death made him realize he had not seen his savior. The elfling jumped up and glanced around franticly. No, no! He did not want to stay here with the bloody dead! What if some of them were actually still alive?! He looked about the bodies fearfully, but saw no one.

"_H-hello?_"

"_Ed' i'ear ar' elenea!_" Legolas started violently at the deep voice speaking elvish. He turned around once again, and this time saw him: a tall, slim man with white feathery hair. He thought he saw feathers in it. The man's white cloak was stained at the bottom with elf and thing blood. Legolas's eyes trailed back up the man's front to his face, where spring green eyes stared at him from above high cheekbones and a strong chin. Legolas couldn't help but think that the man was very handsome. **_(7)_**

"_W-who are you?_"

"_Little one, shouldn't I be asking you that?_" Then, as if coming upon some grand revelation, understanding dawned on the man's face and he rushed over to the elfling's side. "_Are you alright?! Not hurt?_"

Legolas pulled back from the man's gentle grip to study his face. "_I am unhurt. Who are you?_"

The man smirked. "_So the little elfling that's got all of Mirkwood and Lórien in a tizzy's got a bit of a stubborn streak, eh? Well, I'm very glad you're not hurt. I can't imagine what Galadriel would do to me if anything happened to you on my watch…"_

The blonde looked at him in surprise. "_You know the Lady of the Wood?_"

"_Aye, little one. But that is a story for another time. Where was your company going?_"

"_We were heading to Rivendell,_" Legolas looked at the ground sadly. "_I was going to meet Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen and the others. But… I do not know what to do now._"

"_Oh little elfling,_" the strange man replied, "_I can still get you to Rivendell if you so wish, but I will be unable to travel with you._"

Legolas frowned. "_But I will be in danger then._"

"_Do place some trust in me, little prince._" The man got to his feet and whistled. A large, otherworldly black mount heeded his call and melted out of the shadows. Legolas took a step back, wary of the black horse with the golden eyes.

"_Do not be frightened,_" the man smiled softly, "_She will not hurt you._"

The Mirkwood prince edged forward and cautiously put a hand towards the beast. The mare walked slowly forward and placed her head on his palm.

"_There we go, see? Now, let me help you up, and then my pretty girl here will take a few hours to get to Rivendell. When you reach the city, tell them the Lord of Fangorn aided you. I will be heading back to Lórien to send word to your father. Do you understand?_" The green-eyed man lifted him onto the horse, and Legolas clutched her mane tightly. He frowned again. Many things the man was saying did not make sense. How could a horse reach Rivendell from here in mere hours? Fangorn didn't have a lord. Why could the man not go with Legolas? And, most importantly, _who was he?_

"_Understand?_" Those green eyes looked straight at him, and the blonde felt himself nodding even despite his doubts.

The man looked satisfied and turned to leave. "_Good. Then I bid you namarie. Tenna' ento lye omenta._" **_(8)_**

"_Wait!_" The infuriatingly odd man turned back around and raised an eyebrow. Legolas cringed, but spoke anyway: "_Lle vesta?_" **_(9)_**

Both eyebrows rose to his white hair. "_Mani?_" **_(10)_**

"_Do you promise I will see you again?_"

The man's expression softened into something almost tender. "_Amin vesta._" **_(11)_**

Then he was gone.

**88888888**

Harry watched from afar as the little elfling kicked the horse into action. Creating and maintaining that shadow beast would use up a lot of energy, and Harry lamented its loss. But, as he contemplated the little elfling Legolas Greenleaf, he couldn't help but admit that it was worth it.

**88888888**

**Longest chapter ever. Ugh, my eyes hurt. Well, does this at least earn some of your forgiveness back? Haha, well either way, this chapter was super fun. I love elfling!Legolas! So cute. Anyways, on to more important things. So, for the rest of the fiction, how do you want elvish translations worked in? I know some people don't like them because they're a bit of a pain to read (trust me, their worse to write- I don't think I've ever had that many spelling error on a document before) but I like them and they **_**will **_**be there. So I can continue marking them like I did here, or I could go ahead and not mark them but still put translations here, etc etc. Another thing: notes about the AU stuff in this chapter. Okay, now I'm aware that canon says that the Istari didn't arrive in Arda until TA 1000, but I'm going to write it so that they were always there, but just started actively aiding the effort against Sauron in the Third Age. The other thing is that I'm going to have creatures like Shelob, the other spiders, and the orcs gaining strength earlier than canon. So, its kind of like the Dark was building up for a while, and Sauron was just the catalyst to push everything to light. That should be just about everything; I may go back and flesh out this chapter a bit more later, but for now this is good.**

**-MC**

**PS- Oh, and guys, I took the hiatus status off my beta profile, so if anyone needs/wants a beta (for really almost anything) I'm available!**

_TRANSLATIONS:_

**_(1) _**_"Nae saian luume', Mithrandir." _–It has been too long, Mithrandir.

**_(2) _**_"Oio naa elealla alasse', arwenamin_." –Ever is thy sight a joy, my Lady.

**_(3) _**_"Mae govannen, heru Harry en Fangorn_." –Well met, Lord Harry of Fangorn.

**_(4) _**_"Mae govannen, arwen en amin Galadriel. Seasa omentien lle." _–Well met, my Lady Galadriel. It's a pleasure meeting you.

**_(5) _**_"I'seasamin_." –The pleasure is mine.

**_(6) _**_"Nurta, Legolas, asca_!" –Hide, Legolas, hurry!

**_(7) _**_"Ed' I'ear ar' elenea_!" –By the sea and stars!

**_(8) _**_"Namarie. Tenna' ento lye omenta." _–Farewell. Until we meet again.

**_(9) _**_"Lle vesta_?" –Do you promise?

**_(10_**_) "Mani?" _–What?

**_(11) _**_"Amin vesta." _–I promise.


	6. Chapter 6: Longing for the Unseen

Chapter Six: Longing for the Unseen

**Title:** Lord of the Forest

**Rating:** T

**Pairings: **Harry/Legolas

**Warnings: **Slash, mild gore, AU, language, some angst, a touch of depression, OOCness. That's a bit hard to avoid with an immortal Harry, though.

**Summary: **The grief after Harry's friends' deaths threatens to overcome him. With nothing and no one left, he slips into a new world, where he can start over. There he discovers he plays quite an important part... Harry/Legolas; powerful!Harry; Harry centric. Written for CasheyHooray1.00's challenge.

**AN:** Wow… okay, erm… Don't hit me? I did _not_ realize that I had left this to sit for so long. Especially with so many people reading! Seriously, you guys are awesome. Anywho, I've finally returned and brought some chapters with me!

**NOTE: **Someone asked what I meant with the line last chapter concerning Harry's decision not to visit the elves after Legolas's birth "saving Middle Earth, but condemning his [Harry's] heart to thousands of years of suffering." To clarify: had Harry visited, he would have felt compelled to stick around and protect Legolas from harm (we get into that a little this chapter). This would have prevented Harry from fighting against Sauron during the Third Age before LotR and the events of The Hobbit. In this universe, Harry is very active in the war effort, so had he not fought, much more of Middle Earth would have been destroyed even if Sauron _was_ defeated permanently.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not, nor will I ever, own the worlds of Harry Potter sand Lord of the Rings.

**88888888**

**THIRD AGE, YEAR 2941**

"You want to do WHAT?" Harry yelped in alarm. Several patrons of the shady bar turned to glare at their shadowed corner. The white-haired wizard hastily lowered his voice, "Gandalf, are you _mad? _You know as well as anyone the dangers of a journey such as this! How could you possibly wish to endeavor to retrieve that bloody hunk of rock?"

Gandalf chuckled fondly. "Only you, my old friend, would refer to the Arkenstone as a _'hunk of rock'_. The stone is very precious to the dwarves; it is not just the stone itself- it symbolizes their victory over the dark creature which stole from them their people and destroyed their home."

Harry waved his hand irritably. "It matters not what it symbolizes. The jewel brings nothing but greed and madness to the possessor; this you know."

Gandalf bowed his head in acknowledgement, but did not concede– "There is one who may be able to overcome the song of the stone and that of the golden hoard. His name is Thorin Oakenshield, and he is the one undertaking the journey, along with his companions."

"The decision has already been made, I see," said Harry dryly. "Well, if that's you needed to speak to me of, then I will be taking my leave–"

"Harry, one thing more." Gandalf's hand snatched at younger Istari's sleeve with surprising force. "There will be another companion on this quest– a young hobbit called Bilbo. If you could possibly–"

"Oooh no, old man," Harry shook his head fiercely, yanking his sleeve out of Gandalf's grip. "Absolutely _not. _You are _not_ dragging me into this mess, I refuse to babysit your merry band of dwarves. Have you forgotten the results of your last round of meddling?" Harry hissed menacingly.

Gandalf shook his head mournfully. "Those poor suitors never meant any harm, they were nice men… My cloak still smells strangely," the man added, disapprovingly eyeing the manic grin which had replaced Harry's scowl at the remembered mischief. "I only need you to check in on them once in a while. There is trouble brewing in Mirkwood, I will need to abandon them before their quest's end."

"Mirkwood?" asked Harry tightly, eyes suddenly intent upon the elder's face. All previous mirth was forgotten in the face of danger in _that place_, of all the kingdoms. "What has happened?"

Gandalf sighed, running a hand across features which appeared a great many years older in the dingy light of the pub. "My friend, there have been whispers, whisper in the shadows of a great darkness returning…"

As Gandalf spoke of evils and the resurrected dead, eternally young features drained of color. The candles burned low, flames twirling and shuddering away from the news- the words which made the growing shadows of night dance in joy:

_The Dark Lord returns, _they sang, _he comes!_

**88888888**

**THIRD AGE, YEAR 2941**

Harry eyed the sleeping bodies in disbelief from his perch in the trees. _This_ was the group meant to retrieve the Arkenstone?! _That dwarf looks barely able to stand, much less hold a sword!_ Harry thought scornfully. _And the hobbit? Psh, soft as a housecat!_

Harry shook his head in despair and turned his attention instead to the forest surrounding. Mirkwood had always called to him- ever since that day…

_Pale, porcelain features, hair of white gold… _

"_Promise?"_

_The child eyed him with such longing, it was all Harry could do not to sweep the child into his arms and take him himself to Rivendell. Instead the green-eyed man spoke as gently as possible and __**promised.**_

_Eyes filled with relief… Eyes like glaciers and broken mirrors reflecting cloudless day…_

Harry roughly broke himself out of the gold-hazed daydream. He doubted the little elfling remembered him; well, he supposed the elfling would not be quite so little now.

A verdant gaze trailed the (now awake) company as they packed up and made their way out of their small clearing. The wizard felt the approach of the souls of several large arachnids a few miles off. Red lips stretched to reveal slightly sharpened teeth.

_Oh, this will be __**fun**__._

**88888888**

**THIRD AGE, YEAR 2941**

Harry pouted as he observed the cooling spider corpses. He hadn't gotten to fight at all. _How disappointing, _He mourned his loss of entertainment, but eyed the little hobbit with much more interest than before. _It seems I will have to revise my opinion of the small one._

He then turned to face the rescuers. They were quite obviously members of the Woodland Realm, subjects to King Thranduil. Harry watched the female without interest. His eyes roamed over the rest of the entourage, flicking in a bored fashion over each face until–

_Blue blue eyes, blue like glacial ice_–

All of Harry's breath left him in a rush. It was the little elfling from before, the one who had caught Harry's attention so completely, the reason he had gravitated towards Mirkwood for almost two thousand years.

The elf's head swung up sharply upon hearing Harry's surprise, and he eyed the boughs of the trees warily and with caution. Harry was almost too caught up in the elf to remember to hide himself– but _Merlin, _was he beautiful!

A sudden tug on his magic drew his attention– however reluctantly– from the elf. Something dark was brewing and it had set off one of the wards Harry had unrepentantly tagged Gandalf's staff with.

Taking one last, longing look at the elf, Harry prepared to shift through space to Gandalf's side, and so pushed all thoughts of elves and the heaviness in his heart to the back of his mind.

In his haste, Harry tore his cloak on the unforgiving branches of his perch. Swearing and raging, he transported to Gandalf– only to be met with a Shadow far more powerful than anything he had met in all his years of existence.

**88888888**

**THIRD AGE, YEAR 2941**

Legolas watched as the dwarves grumbled amongst themselves and swept lingering spider silk from their clothing. He sneered at their rudeness. None of them were the least bit grateful that the elves had saved them!

He saw Tauriel out of the corner of his eye lean down to examine one of the spiders, but his attention was caught by something akin to a gasp from above. Subtly, he prepared himself to draw his sword or release an arrow– but the expected attack never came.

Brow furrowing in confusion, Legolas focused his ears and eyes upon the foliage above. He could have sworn he had sensed something…

_There!_

A faint voice cursed to itself, sounding from a tree on the edge of the clearing. Legolas nearly stumbled upon himself in his scramble to reach the voice. _Something about it seems familiar… Could it be? No…_

_Promise?_

_**I promise.**_

By the time the elf prince reached the branch where he had heard the voice, all he found was a scrap of fine cloth. Raising it to his face, Legolas caught the scent of sparks which lingered in the aftermath of a thunderstorm, fresh grass, and something warm and heady.

"_Legolas!"_

"I am coming!" He called back. Legolas gave the area one last searching stare, before leaping back down to the ground, pushing the incident away.

No one noticed if he reached into his pocket to absent-mindedly stroke the scrap of cloth there.

**88888888**

**THIRD AGE, YEAR 2941**

"So we know for sure now." Harry said in monotone, watching blankly as Gandalf stoked the flames. "He has returned."

Gandalf nodded and smiled grimly. "But we have bought time with this. He was not expecting the both of us– no doubt he was planning on you bolstering the defenses of Fangorn, as you did in the first war."

Harry sighed and came to sit next to his companion. "I have to admit, it is a tempting idea."

"You know he will not forget you now. You are a part of his plans now, whether you plan on staying or not." Gandalf cautioned. "It is in your best interest to be among allies now."

Harry laughed without humor. "What allies, Gandalf? None but the elves and the trees remember the horrors of Sauron. The men and the dwarves will be hard-pressed to overcome petty grudges and differences. And many of the elves are much too proud to admit the need for help from those they see as lesser."

Gandalf did not reply. Smoke rose in rings from his pipe, and for once he did not shape them whimsically.

A great while later, Harry had nearly fallen asleep when he heard Gandalf mutter to himself.

"We can only hope and see, my friend."

**88888888**

**THIRD AGE, YEAR 3018**

Harry eyed the letter with no small amount of trepidation. He had not yet forgotten the hell-raising adventure Gandalf had drawn him into last time– imagine, a _dragon_ of all things! He shuddered. Even opening the bloody thing was asking for trouble.

Tossing the letter on the inn table for the moment, Harry instead watched the other patrons of the inn. Some rowdy drunk men were singing some raunchy song in the middle of the room. A 'secret' rendezvous between the butcher's boy and the young widow in the opposite corner was watched not-so-surreptitiously by the innkeeper's daughter. Harry snorted in amusement. No doubt the entire town would know of it by tomorrow afternoon.

But the most interesting occupant was the man cloaked in the shadows of the adjacent corner. He was tall; broad shoulders muscled, calloused hands cradled a mug. _A swordsman, no doubt_. _Waiting for someone. Who…?_

Harry sighed and shook his head, once again turning to Gandalf's letter. He reached for it, silently despairing and cursing his curiosity. _I will get pulled in anyways, I always do._

He ripped through the envelope easily and pulled out the contents. A letter, addressed to him, carrying far more intriguing information than anything Harry could have hoped to entertain himself with for the next few centuries. _Gandalf you sly, sly man_–_ you know exactly how to get my attention_. Harry's eyebrows rose as he further perused the elegant script.

_A council, eh? _Harry smirked. _How interesting…_

**88888888**

**Okay, that was a lot of writing for one sitting. Yay, an almost meeting, Legolas PoV, and the beginning of LotR content. Sorry guys, I know a lot of this was filler. Necessary, but not entirely pleasant. Please let me know about any mistakes, as the time is currently 5 am I do not expect my spelling and grammar to be perfect. Haha, well hope you guys enjoyed it!**

**-MC**


	7. Chapter 7: Hidden Protector

Chapter Seven: Hidden Protector

**Title:** Lord of the Forest

**Rating:** T

**Pairings: **Harry/Legolas

**Warnings: **Slash, mild gore, AU, language, some angst, a touch of depression, OOCness. That's a bit hard to avoid with an immortal Harry, though.

**Summary: **The grief after Harry's friends' deaths threatens to overcome him. With nothing and no one left, he slips into a new world, where he can start over. There he discovers he plays quite an important part... Harry/Legolas; powerful!Harry; Harry centric. Written for CasheyHooray1.00's challenge.

**AN: **Here's to all the awesome people who read and special thanks to those who reviewed! Is everyone excited for the famous Council chapter? Be grateful, I almost decided to make this one of those silly intermission chapters to explain what was going on with everyone else…

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not, nor will I ever, own the worlds of Harry Potter sand Lord of the Rings.

**88888888**

**THIRD AGE, YEAR 3018**

The breeze danced playfully through the leaves, swirling among them and ruffling white hair. Branches arched and bent towards the lounging figure, who batted them away as they began to aid the wind in tangling his hair. Pointedly ignoring the elements ganging up on him, Harry instead watched his surroundings idly. The forests about Rivendell were lush and green, but the flow of life here was a far cry from the slow, ancient lumbering of Fangorn.

As the dizzying pulse of the life of Rivendell swept over him again, Harry was forcefully reminded of his growing homesickness. He longed to return to the quiet of Fangorn, but he ached to experience _adventure _again. Harry was beginning to wonder how Gandalf had even convinced him to look into this insane mission in the first place. Going against Sauron? Pft, as if the mortals would be able to manage…

A deep sigh rustled the leaves dangling just before Harry's nose. This whole mess was terribly discouraging, and his extended leave from Fangorn only served to make him more unsettled. He closed his eyes and went to lean back, intending to catch a nap before entering the elven city.

Just seconds later, Harry's eyes snapped open.

Many dark auras had just burst onto Harry's radar. He watched incredulously as nine dark shadows raced after an elven woman. The _ringwraiths._ So she had something of importance to Sauron… the Nazgul rarely hunted for sport any more. He pondered jumping to her defense, but reconsidered as the elf-lady urged her horse forward and leapt into the river.

Harry raised an eyebrow. So the lady was no pandering housewife.

The wraiths rushed after her, but the elf hesitated on the opposite bank and the Nazgul screeched, sensing victory. Harry sighed and stood, dusting off his pants as he made to go to her side. _Elves_, he grumbled to himself, _are insufferable creatures, always getting into trouble…_ A brief flash of a stern, black-haired man had Harry shuddering. He did _not _sound like that_– _that_ prat_.

But instead of Harry rushing in and saving the day and getting the girl_– or elf, _he thought, recalling a particularly enchanting (but just as insufferable) blonde one from Mirkwood_–_ the elven woman paused, the air pulsed and the river _surged. _

Harry hissed at the aura which surrounded the magic. The power itself didn't seem to belong to the woman. _Sauron– no,_ he frowned, the magic was… _cleaner_, somehow, less tainted by rage and greed and_–_ grief? Someone nearby must be a keeper of a Ring... Harry shook his head impatiently, dislodging a pretty red feather. He didn't have time to ponder the history of the nasty little ring which he knew was the cause of the flood: his entertainment was getting away!

**8888888**

Gandalf, amused, observed the spot of wavering air that had lurked about the halls since Arwen's return with Frodo. Its aura was distinctly disgruntled, and if Gandalf could have seen the invisible creator he was sure that the other wizard would be pouting.

"You know, my friend, that skulking about the shadows is not the polite way to attend a gathering," he smoothed his features into a stern façade. "And my reputation would be severely damaged if I were seen speaking with thin air. I can only use the 'it is wizard business' excuse so many times before people begin to think me truly senile."

The distortion bent and shuddered, and Gandalf got the impression that Harry was cackling.

Gandalf's mask of disapproval cracked and his mouth twisted into a grin. "Well if I cannot convince you to attend properly, at least come to watch?" The illusion faded back to near-invisibility. The Istari sighed. "Well, if that is how you truly feel, then I will respect it."

Standing and stretching, Gandalf murmured to himself, "I shall have to inform Elrond of your leave. I imagine that this council will be tense enough as it stands, what with the dwarves and elves together… I am particularly worried about the son of Gloin and the proud Boromir. And goodness knows that Legolas is not one to_–_"

A yank on the back of Gandalf's robes stopped the man in his tracks. He turned to judge his companion with a sort of exasperated interest. "What is it, Harry? I admit that they are all good men, but when together in a room they may as well be children_–_"

"No," the voice, though a mere whisper, was undoubtedly that of his friend. "What of Legolas?"

"What of him?" Asked Gandalf, startled, "He is the Mirkwood elf prince, the one who you encountered many years ago after the orc attack. He just arrived last night in Thranduil's place for the Council."

"_He's here?_" squeaked Harry, sounding more like his apparent age than ever. The magic keeping him hidden spat and flickered, revealing the faintest outline of his friend.

"Well, yes," said the grey wizard. A flash of comprehension lit up his face, like a spark leaping from the flame. Gandalf's intrigue morphed into what could only be described as positively wicked glee. Some of his delight must have leaked into his expression for Harry immediately groaned in despair. "Harry…"

"Gandalf, _don't–_"

"Harry do you wish to court the prince? He is very beautiful, I must admit, but have you spoken with him? Oh, you _must_..." Gandalf continued to babble about courtship and the importance of presenting a proper proposal like a servant girl who dreams of a handsome lord.

Unseen, Harry placed his head in his hands and lamented the waning sanity of his closest friend. But as much as it pained him to admit it, he was glad Gandalf still had the levity to tease him in the current situation. He watched with exasperated fondness as the old man began to form a plan to introduce the two. _I don't know what I'd do if he ever changed,_ he sighed and snagged the rambling Gandalf by the sleeve again, intending to drag him around until the other man's interest was snagged by something else. _Though a little less interest into my love life would be nice._

**88888888**

The patio where the council was to be held was quickly filling with esteemed members of varying races. Elrond was already seated in a grand chair, looking regal and calm. A group of dwarves threw nasty looks at the elves on the other side of the clearing, and the elves tossed their noses in the air and pretended that they were better than the rougher race. Harry could definitely see where their conflict spawned from, even without knowing the varying slights of the races against each other. The elves were all elegance and sophistication, but they were somewhat detached from the reality of the world due to their long lives and secluded abodes.

The dwarves, on the other hand, were hardy folk who lived for the rush of battle and the feel of the earth between their fingers. With two races from such different backgrounds, it was easy to understand how they would jar when together.

With his thoughts drifting so, Harry almost didn't notice when Legolas strode onto the council floor. But it was hard to miss hair that blonde and a smile that bright. Harry watched as the elf clasped arms with a strangely familiar man with windswept brown hair, again somewhat in awe of him. It was hard to think that the same elfling which Harry saved from a terrible fate so many years ago was now standing before him, strong and proud and _bloody gorgeous_.

Harry unenthusiastically tore his gaze away from the blonde elf to inspect the now-completed council. An entourage of men lead by a handsome, broad-shouldered brunette stuck together, warily scrutinizing the other council members. Harry resolutely avoided looking over to where Gandalf was sitting next to a small dark-haired hobbit, just _knowing_ that the man was staring at him and glancing meaningfully over at Legolas.

The sound of leaves rustling caught Harry's attention, and green eyes rolled in vexation at the discovery of three more hobbits. If he was remembering correctly, they were companions to the dark-headed one sitting near Gandalf. He studied them carefully, pondering whether or not to reveal them. But for a brief moment, the hidden brunette and blondes faded into red, violently curly brown, and messy black.

Shaking his head softly, Harry stepped back and away from the trio. _My my, _he thought wryly, _feeling rather nostalgic lately, eh Harry?_

Focusing once again on the council, Harry realized that the proceedings had already begun. One of those horrid rings was laying innocently on the stone table in the middle of the floor. Though this one was much uglier in aura than the one that Arwen had wielded, and its magic slinked out in tendrils to coil around the council members.

He snarled lightly as one crept towards Gandalf, but was soothed when the old man batted it away. They didn't appear to do much more that incite negative emotions in the victim, so Harry grudgingly settled into a perch on a low-hanging branch behind the other wizard.

The green-eyed wizard's interest waned a bit after that, preferring instead to amuse himself by braiding bits of Gandalf's long hair. Harry listened to the basic layout of the plan for the Ring and decided that they were making its destruction much too complicated. Why not just have the Ringbearer and one or two guardians fly with the eagles to Mount Doom? It would be faster and there was a greater chance of success. But he assumed there must be some underlying meaning to the Quest he was missing and kept his much-too-logical idea to himself.

He pouted when the man stood abruptly to argue with the suddenly-incensed council. It appeared that the fools considered it an honor to bear the Ring. Harry snorted scornfully. The Bearer would be haunted by the Ring for the entirety of the journey and even after the Ring was destroyed.

The proud morons (Harry very much did _not_ hear a snide drawl in his head which hissed, _Gryffindors_) continued their spat, disregarding the small voice–

"I will take the Ring!"

Harry leaned forward suddenly, balancing on the tips of his toes. _The little hobbit wants to take it? _Harry stared incredulously as the council quieted. _What a curious thought._

Gandalf seemed resigned, apparently already accepting the young one's decision and _agreeing with it._ Elrond looked as though he wanted to protest, but was taking Gandalf's silence as assurance that the matter was final.

Men began to step forward and pledge themselves to the Quest, starting with Aragorn, the man who had greeted Legolas so warmly earlier. Harry eyed them speculatively. _Well_, he admitted reluctantly, _if nothing else, they are a loyal group. Except… perhaps that one_. The man– Boromir?– maintained the disdainful air he had carried since the announcement of Aragorn's claim to Gondor's throne.

_He will need to be watched._

Of course, Harry would be warning Gandalf to do the watching. There was no way in hell he was going on this ridiculous Quest–

The wizard tumbled violently off his perch when the three hobbits from before came bursting out of the shrubbery. Harry sat up and patted his head mournfully. Luckily, the council was much more concerned with the unnoticed eavesdroppers and wannabe Quest-goers than some suspicious rustling.

With the addition of Merry, Pippin, and Sam– Harry calculated that the success rate of the mission had just dropped approximately thirty percent– the newly-named 'Fellowship' had nine members. He considered that a good, strong number and took no notice whatsoever of Gandalf's pleading expression. Three threes. Yes, they'd be fine.

(Of course, Harry had never actually studied magical numerology and was entirely guessing as he only remembered that three was a particularly special number)

The terrace began to clear of council members, many speaking under the breaths of the new Fellowship, praising and condemning in equal measures. Harry himself stood and straightened his clothing. He may as well catch up to Gandalf and say goodbye, goodness knows when he'd see the old man agai–

Harry froze. Leaning against the door which lead back inside, looking for all the world as though he had the weight of Arda upon his shoulders, was Legolas. A bit of frantic spinning confirmed that they were the only two left in the council's meeting area, and there was no assurance of Legolas moving anytime soon.

Shoulders slumping, Harry sighed. Though he hated to lose such a perfect chance to observe the prince, he really did need to see Gandalf…

Just as he was deliberating whether to tackle Legolas and vault over his prone body or to attempt to apparate for the first time in seven hundred years, the elf prince turned.

And stared, eyes focused on Harry's location.

_Oh dear._

**88888888**

Legolas frowned. Though he had understood why his father had sent him to attend the Council, he doubted that the overprotective king had meant for him to join the Fellowship.

The Fellowship… Legolas was not in the habit of criticizing those he did not know, but it was difficult to envision success in this endeavor. Half of the members had no training, battle or otherwise, Boromir was much too proud and was likely to be contradictory for the sake of doing so, Aragorn and Gandalf were not in the habit of sharing vital information with others until it was much too late, and there was a _dwarf_, for Nienna's sake!

Were it not for his composure, the elven prince would have been lamenting his agreement to leave his precious Mirkwood.

Legolas drew in a deep breath, attempting to steady himself- but, instead, he paused. There was something… something sharp, almost like–

_Lightning in a thunderstorm._

His eyes widened and he spun, searching for the source of the scent. Flashes of screaming orcs, a ghostly black steed, and bright emerald eyes overwhelmed him. Legolas's hand twitched towards his pocket, where a small scrap of cloth lay.

He searched frantically for the man who was his savior, but just as he thought he spotted something, he heard a light gasp and a faint crack. The smell faded.

**88888888**

Harry strode quietly towards the gates of Rivendell. With things finally in motion against Sauron and his allies, he planned to return to Fangorn and reinstate the defenses from the first war. He daren't leave the forest entirely unprotected, especially with the Ents remaining in Fangorn. They had refused to leave with the Entwives, claiming that the lands needed them– as did Harry. Which was entirely true, of course.

Shaking his head, Harry quickened his pace. He needed to get out onto the road before–

"Harry! HARRY!"

The wizard stopped and closed his eyes, cursing to himself. He turned, dropping his disillusion, and greeted his elder. "Hello Gandalf. I don't want to be rude, but is this important? I must be leaving so–"

Gandalf reached out and caught him by the shoulders. "You can't leave yet! What about the quest–"

"I'm not part of the Fellowship."

"–you never said hello to anyone–"

"I'm sure they don't mind."

"–what about Legolas?"

Harry's mouth tightened. Though he truly did want to get to know Legolas, he was tied so strongly to Fangorn. He could survive the destruction of his first home here by cutting the ties he held to the life force there, but he wouldn't. He loved Fangorn and the beings living there. He would never be able to forgive himself if he lost Fangorn because of his selfish lusts for a pretty face.

"…I'm sure nothing would have happened anyway." Harry shrugged Gandalf's hands off and faced the gates once again. Fangorn called to him, it _needed _him.

"Harry…"

Heavy cloth swayed as the wizard strode to the gates. Gandalf watched him go, equal parts disapproving and disappointed. He understood the mage's need to defend his home, but at what cost? At what point would Harry hesitate to give himself to protect others? Did that point even exist?

"_Harrison?!_"

A new voice broke the tense air caused by Harry's retreating footsteps. It exclaimed in utter surprise, and sounded just this side of reverent. Harry dared not turn around, but from the sound of it, the person calling out to him had just exited the main hall.

"Shit." Full lips twisted into a snarl, distorting pretty features into something fierce. He knew that voice, knew the repercussions of ignoring it, of simply walking away, back turned…

But oh, it was _so_ tempting.

Donning the masquerade costume of social niceties, Harry turned his shoulder and dipped into a gracious bow. Though at first glance it seemed respectful, the ostentatious and exaggerated nature of the movement mocked the receiver.

Elrond, the unfortunate victim of Harry's ire, hesitated. His sharp eyes caught the hidden insult and, with a quick glance to Gandalf, understood the reasoning for it. Regardless of his companions' wishes, the wizard was a freer spirit than the wind and did not take being controlled lightly.

The elf ignored the tightening in his friend's gaze and the tenseness of his frame, moving to embrace him anyways. Harry slumped slightly into the one cradling him. He could never remain angry at Elrond– the elf loved him too much to ever actually mean him harm. "I'm glad you came," Elrond whispered into the wizard's hair. "Even if it was less with an intention to aid and more out of curiosity," he tacked on dryly, pulling back.

Harry managed a weak smile. The stress he was under was beginning to tear him down– he had so much to do, and Gandalf wanted him to add this as well? He knew Elrond didn't mean to be, but his gentle smile and warm eyes were cracking the last of his strength. The temptation to fall into the soul of someone stronger, more stable, than himself for even the smallest amount of time was shattering his patched-up sanity.

Just as his head began to fall onto Elrond's shoulder, just as his knees began to buckle, as long eyelashes fluttered and strong fingers released their grips– the main hall's doors creaked open again.

And hazy green eyes lazily met with glacial blue.

**88888888**

When Legolas had been chosen to go find the wayward lord of Imladris, this was _not _where he had expected to find him.

He had been prepared to call out to the lord upon leaving the cozy warmth of the entrance hall, prepared to jokingly scold him for worrying his caretakers, prepared to link arms with him and discuss the final plans for the Fellowship. Legolas had not been prepared to see him intimately embracing the one man who may or may not have captured his interest solely throughout his existence.

And then those green eyes had flickered his way– _and oh, what a color_– and the man's head lifted from his lord's shoulder– _put him down put him down he's not __**yours**_– and Legolas had been completely and utterly stricken.

He had heard from other elves that sometimes you met a person who encapsulated everything you had ever needed, wanted, been searching for. Sometimes you met more than one of these people, sometimes there was only one and you ended up letting them slip through your fingers accidently. Sometimes you didn't know how special they were to you until you had met them fifty times, sometimes it was instantaneous.

They weren't soul mates necessarily– _Legolas thought soul mates were a bit silly, what if you never met them? You could never love anyone fully then, always dreaming up someone better_– rather they were living, breathing manifestations of an elf's perfect emotional resonance.

At least, that's what the books said. Legolas wasn't really in the state of mind to consider anything other than how absolutely lovely it was being in the man's presence again.

**88888888**

**Hell, I have the worst cold right now. But I was going through my fictions and figured you guys definitely deserved an update. Now I didn't actually proofread the second half and I don't have a beta, so if you spot a mistake please feel free to inform me about it.**

**So whoop! Legolas and Harry finally see each other again. No direct interaction, but next chapter. Also, interpret Harry and Elrond's relationship as you will; romantically, hardcore broship, parental, I don't really mind. I'm leaving it vague on purpose.**

**Love you guys, seriously you rock and your reviews are a constant inspiration for me. Thank you.**

**-**_**MischievousCuriosity**_

**PS: My old fics are in desperate need of rewriting, but I have little to no motivation concerning them. If anyone would like to adopt the concepts, please shoot me a PM. But I would seriously consider a revamp before posting any of those.**

**EDIT: Merlenyn reminded me that Arwen is not the holder of one of the rings_– _thank you! **


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